


Breaking Bread

by mansikka



Series: Olive Branches [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dinner, Family Dinners, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12349830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Magnus, Alec, and Maryse have dinner together.





	Breaking Bread

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Madalena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madalena/gifts).



> Hello :)
> 
> Well, you asked for a part two at dinner, so here it is... I'm gifting this to Madalena because they were the one pointing out to me I can't count; you could have had this days ago if I could... oops :D
> 
> Enjoy! x
> 
> Oh, by the way: the book mentioned in this? Entirely due to a recent interview at NYCC :D

Magnus looks longingly over at his drinks table, then forces his eyes elsewhere with a desperate sigh.

This is not going to be the ordeal he thinks it’s going to be, Magnus tells himself for the umpteenth time, eyes to the ceiling and pleading with himself not to mess things up. It’s been almost a month since he’d blurted out that invitation to dinner to Maryse, and Magnus won’t allow himself to count up all the hours of sleep he’s lost to it, because he doesn’t want to acknowledge it’s been happening. Doesn’t want to admit that he’s half-terrified that the gentle peace between them in those few seconds of Maryse leaving this very apartment were nothing but an overactive imagination on his part, and on hers, a trick of the light.

Perhaps she hadn’t smiled at him, Magnus thinks to himself feeling a little sick. Perhaps she despised the thought of sharing an evening with her son and the man who has corrupted him, but was merely being polite. Maybe that follow-up message she had sent to thank him for being so gracious was merely a ruse to catch him off guard. Magnus has never grimaced so hard at a number stored in his cell phone before, though feels he has ample reason to do now; and is still a little peeved with Izzy for giving out his number without warning him first.

Maryse has only messaged him twice since, but it’s enough to put him on edge, to make him glance at his phone suspiciously every time it makes a noise. It tends to be Alec contacting him more than anyone else, of course, Magnus admits to himself with a small smile. But the chance that it _could_ be her weighs heavily on his mind.

Magnus curses himself then for being anything but _gracious_ , and glances at the drinks table once again.

Alec had been thrilled about this dinner when he had told him, Magnus remembers with an easier smile. He’d waited until they were alone in the apartment he’d portaled them to in Italy for their weekend away—a few hours after they’d eaten, taken in the scenery, and… _enjoyed_ each other a little first, of course. Magnus had blurted it out sleepy-sated, and immediately been rolled over on his back and kissed senseless in gratitude; even with the passing of time since the invitation.

“Thank you,” Alec had whispered repeatedly, cupping his face and looking down at him so lovingly, that all Magnus could do was wrap his arms around his waist, and accept all the affection he showered him with.

Magnus pleads with himself once again to not let Alec down.

“Hey,” Alec says then, as always with the perfect of timing, stepping into Magnus’ field of vision and distracting him entirely from all his inner musings. Magnus doesn’t say a word, merely hums as Alec steps up close to him, treating him to the view that is his tight-fitting navy shirt with a subtle undertone of pattern, and these perfectly-fitting pants he’s seen him in only once—and is already looking forward to getting him back out of.

Magnus chides himself for letting his mind go _there_ so easily with Alec’s mother due any moment, though Alec does not help matters at all, by crowding up against him and smelling of something sinful, as he loops his hands low around Magnus’ back and hums his own appreciation into his ear.

“You look incredible. As always,” Alec tells him, pulling him a fraction closer and sighing his way into a hug.

“And you just look edible,” Magnus mumbles into his neck in retort, smiling at the way it ripples as Alec snorts in answer.

“Yeah, well. Maybe it’s a good thing we’re going to dinner now, then, huh? ‘Cos you already _had_ me,” Alec retorts, filling Magnus’ mind with the reason they’ve both just taken a shower, and why he’s got all the windows open to give the apartment some fresh air.  

Alec's mother arriving to the blatant smell of sex is _not_ the impression he thinks he should be going with, and chides himself again for letting his thoughts wander.

“Though if we get through this without a single snarky comment from either of you, when we get back here? I might let you have some dessert,” Alec adds then, squeezing a hand around his waist.

It isn’t fair, Magnus thinks, as Alec kisses his way teasingly along his neck, with his promises and sinful lips and the way he’s blatantly offering him his body. And Magnus is not a weak man, but neither is he a stupid one. When his boyfriend’s doing his best to distract him from possibly unpleasant things, with sweet words and a kiss they’re slowly losing themselves in, he is not going to complain.  

Jolt six feet in the air when there's knock at the door, perhaps, but complain about being kissed he won’t.

Alec clears his throat in amusement, smooths Magnus’ shirt over where it’s been ruffled, offers up a wink that is positively wicked, then tangles their fingers together, and tugs him towards the door.

“Mom,” Alec says as he swings the door open with ease, pulling her into a quick hug.

“Maryse,” Magnus adds as she turns a nervous smile on him, and goes where instinct tells him, by dropping a brief kiss to her cheek, “lovely to see you again,”

“As it is to see you,” Maryse tells him, reaching out and squeezing over his forearm, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,”

“I would have happily portaled you here,” Magnus tells her as he invites her into the apartment.

“I wouldn’t hear of it,” Maryse smiles, “Alec told me that you had a particularly busy day; I wouldn’t want you to exert yourself unnecessarily,”

Magnus smiles back, hoping it doesn’t look too false, praying that he’s not misinterpreting her words as the kindness they’re coming across as. Then belatedly thinks of Alec’s sweetness for worrying that he’s working too hard, and knows his expression has softened, however it’s arranged itself.

“Magnus found the perfect place. As always,” Alec announces, coming to a stop beside Maryse and beaming at Magnus in what feels like pride.

“I thought, perhaps tapas,” Magnus blurts out, hoping it’s a good decision. He’d thought that an easy mix of bite sized dishes and finger food, where they could all get equally messy or struggle to not, might be good levelling ground. Plus, he knows if things go badly, then the place he’s thinking of has an excellent range of complementary wines that he can lose himself in if necessary—and will hopefully help them all relax.

“I haven’t had Jamón Iberico for the longest time,” Maryse says with a pleased look in her eyes, “and I remember spending an entire month attempting to perfect a sauce for patatas bravas: I’m sure Alec and Izzy were quite sick of it when I was happy I’d finally got it right,”

“I don’t remember complaining,” Alec shrugs, turning to smile at her.

“No,” Maryse agrees, grinning back at him in affection, “you were both so very good about things like that,”

Magnus immediately thinks of Izzy’s attempts in the kitchen, Alec’s own that have… improved under his guidance, and is curious whether cooking has skipped a Lightwood generation, of if Alec’s just being overly polite.

He’ll quiz him on it later, Magnus decides, when they’re wrapped up in their bed, and he can—

Magnus clears his throat, tells himself now is absolutely not the time.

“Will you allow me, at least, to portal us to the restaurant?” Magnus offers. “It is rather cold this evening,”

“It is,” Maryse agrees, drawing Magnus’ attention to the fact that she’s wearing a beautiful dress that is sleeveless.

“I’ll… get you my jacket,” Alec says, squeezing her arm as he moves to pass her, then turns to Magnus and asks, “you want your green one? Or the black one you normally like with this shirt?”

“The green one,” Magnus replies immediately, trying to appear nonchalant as Alec nods easily and leans in to kiss him as he goes, apparently not at all bothered that his mother is standing right there watching.

Maryse beams at him the second Alec’s back is turned; Magnus does his best to echo it.

* * *

“You know, Alec; I have never really considered it before. But I assumed that you would prefer something like scotch, or cognac, if you were to drink anything alcoholic,”

Alec shrugs easily and takes another sip of his wine. “This is good,”

“He also has developed a fondness for champagne and the occasional cocktail; that I am, not sorry to say, is my influence entirely,” Magnus tells her absently, taking a sip from his own glass and humming at the taste.

“I drink beer too sometimes,” Alec retorts, smiling at him, “that IPA at the Hunter’s Moon’s grown on me,”

Maryse’s smile for the two of them seems bemused, and Magnus kicks himself belatedly, remembering her words to him at Max’s rune party about him _liking to drink_. Then worries that perhaps he’s emasculated Alec in his mother’s eyes for stating his preference of drink, which is ridiculous, he knows. He’s nervous, Magnus justifies to himself for even thinking things he doesn’t mean.

“In the rare moments I have just for myself, there is nothing I like more than curling up somewhere with a good book and an excellent vintage of red wine,” Maryse announces, and Magnus has to breathe through the mouthful he’s got for the surprise her words take him by. Tries to picture her doing exactly that, and fails.  

“We’re the same,” Alec agrees, nodding towards Magnus before sitting back a little as their food is slid on the table, “last Friday we started this book, and I don’t think we moved from the couch again until… it’s gotta be… Sunday afternoon,”

“We weren’t drinking the whole time,” Magnus amends immediately in alarm, fearing her reaction. Though she might not want to hear about the  _other_ things they were doing in between reading, when they were—

“What were you reading?” Maryse asks, apparently unconcerned, and thankfully, for Magnus, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Dune,” Alec tells her, beginning to explain the plot. Maryse watches him with a small smile on her face as she sips at her wine.

“You know,” Maryse says then, sliding her eyes away from Alec to Magnus, “when Alec was small, he was convinced that all the Mundane superhero characters were in fact Shadowhunters in elaborate disguise,”

“Really,” Magnus replies, unable to keep the amusement from his voice as Alec’s cheeks take on a violent blush, “I am sure dear Simon would _love_ to hear about that,”

“Simon,” Maryse repeats, her smile dropping a little, “that… vampire friend of Clary’s?”

Magnus and Alec stiffen as one, and Maryse notices immediately, hiding it behind another sip of her wine.

“Yeah,” Alec says, the word coming out guarded, bordering on reproach.

“He seems… nice,” Maryse amends.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Alec immediately retorts with, shrugging. Magnus catches his eye across the table, and receives an innocent smile.

“I was under the impression that a Shadowhunter… _upbringing_ … education, I suppose, was… I imagined it to be rather… closed off, to things in the Mundane world,” Magnus adds as he turns back to look at Maryse, hoping that it won’t cause any offence being so honest.

“It is,” Maryse agrees, laughing, “though whenever I had reason to be… _in_ the Mundane world, when Alec and Izzy were growing up, I couldn’t resist buying at least a part of it to take home. Comic books, mostly. I think we still have them somewhere,”

Magnus smiles, his image of Alec’s childhood beginning to shift and shimmer, and he starts to wonder what other snippets he’s going to hear about it throughout the evening. Debates with himself if it would be too forward to ask questions.

“This looks amazing,” Maryse says then, her eyes down on the enormous amount of dishes filling their table, and Magnus knows he’s overcompensated for his nerves by ordering far more than he thinks is manageable. But Maryse looks happy, Alec’s already spotted the three things Magnus ordered knowing they are his particular favorite, and Magnus can’t help but smile, allowing himself a tiny bit of relief.

“Buen provecho,” he announces, nodding for them to start, and Magnus is relieved when the conversation turns to the excellent quality of their food, requests for more wine—from _Maryse_ —and laughter when things get spilled, threatening to cover the table.

“Izzy would adore it here,” Maryse says in a break between dishes, swirling her glass absently as her eyes sweep approvingly around the restaurant, “it would give her the opportunity to use her Spanish,”

“Maybe you guys should come here,” Alec suggests, and it looks like it’s an easy statement, but Magnus can tell from the smallest of nuances how much hope there is behind his words. He knows the relationship between Maryse and Izzy is tenuous, knows also from a conversation with Luke that _he’s_ not the only one she’s trying to make amends with. Feels his heart soften towards the person who’s been his least-favorite Lightwood for an age—though Robert is always a close second for the fury he often sees in Alec’s eyes when talking about him—and thinks about how he can contribute to that amend-making Maryse is trying to do.

“If you like,” he says, cautiously, because he’s not sure how the offer will be taken, “I can… make you a reservation. This place has a long, long waiting list, but I… managed to pull a few favors for this evening. I am sure I can do the same again,”

“What kinda favors?” Alec asks, grinning at him; Alec already knows, the _tease_ , and a blush heats a path all the way up Magnus’ throat and cheeks. Alec’s told him more than once how _adorable_ he thinks it is that he’s going to such lengths to willingly spend time with his mother; Magnus thinks of it more as attempting to give the world to _him_.

“The owner, his daughter is having difficulty completing her dissertation. She’s a… history major. I happen to have… first-hand knowledge of the period she is attempting to write about,”

“He’s been to their house like… three times now. Talked her through some of the stuff she’s working on so she’s got a better idea what to say,” Alec adds with obvious pride, and Magnus fights not to jump when he feels Alec’s knee knocking against his in encouragement beneath the table.

Maryse turns to look at him in astonishment, and Magnus is struggling not to look away. She stares back at him and seems to be having trouble finding her words; Magnus reaches for a serviette and begins shredding it through his fingers for something to do, feeling lost.

“I would… I will speak to Izzy,” Maryse says then, wordlessly calling Magnus to look back at her, and seeing nothing but gratitude there on her face.

“She’ll have a field day,” Alec adds with a smirk, nodding towards a passing waiter and rolling his eyes at Magnus, who then feels his hand reach out to squeeze his thigh.

“Both Izzy and Jace were always so good when it came to languages,” Maryse says, smiling to herself.  

“Max is pretty good too,” Alec points out, and Magnus aches to say something complimentary about Alec, hating the idea that he’s being excluded from praise.

“You were always the best at more practical things,” Maryse smiles, and Magnus is pleased to see the affection on her face, though wishes she would add more good things about Alec. He might be biased, he knows that, but Magnus thinks Alec would thrive a little on some praise from his mother. Alec’s nonchalant shrug says just that, and Magnus aches for him all over again.

“Izzy’s smart,” Alec replies, “so’s Jace. And Max—”

“And you,” Maryse amends with a raised eyebrow, “all of my children excel at something. Many things,”

“Mom—”

“I mean it,” Maryse insists, “you were always so good at getting to the heart of the issue with anything. Izzy would fret, and complain—loudly, to anyone who would listen, whenever she had a homework task to complete. You would sit beside her, read through it for yourself, and in seconds, summarize it perfectly. And you would keep that information, repeat it back word perfect months later. Your memory recall is exceptional,”

Alec squirms under that praise, but also basks a little in it, the sweetest of blushes lighting his cheeks and making Magnus’ heart surge.

“And,” Maryse adds, apparently warming to her subject; her cheeks too are a little flushed, and Magnus wonders if that’s the wine, the company, or just having an opportunity to not be in regimental control for once, “you were always chief negotiator when the three of you had a falling out. Remember when you talked Jace down from that rooftop where he was hiding, sulking because you’d found a target you were looking for before he did? You must have been about… eleven? You reached him, when no one else could. Sat with him until it got dark, before he could be convinced to come back home,”

“I don’t know about that,” Alec says, shaking his head and looking away.

“Oh, but you do,” Maryse insists again, reaching out and squeezing his hand where it’s resting against the edge of the table, “and who else could have talked Izzy out of _running away_ , when that boy she’d been smiling at for _months_ in a rune class was caught kissing another girl?”

Alec’s mouth curves up into a smile of remembrance, and Magnus has to store up further questions for later, imagining Alec getting all big-brothery with this _boy_ , and desperate to know the tale.  

“You have this way of just… cutting straight to the essence of things,” Maryse sighs, looking every inch to be bursting with pride, “it’s why you are so effective as the Head of the Institute. That, and that you are so open to listening, and treating everyone as equal; something I am guilty of failing to do, multiple times,”

Maryse’s gaze then is for Magnus, full of contrition, hope, sorrow, and so many other things all that once that Magnus feels a little caught in headlights.

“We all have… things we would like to change about our pasts—or past behavior,” he says, hoping to be placating—and not invite any kind of conversation about his own misdemeanors.

“Just ‘cos we’ve done stuff in the past, doesn’t mean we can’t learn from it,” Alec shrugs, “doesn’t mean a person can’t change. Be better. _Are_ better,”

Maryse beams at Magnus, tilts her head towards Alec as though to say, _see_? And Alec is blushing all over again, hiding it behind his glass of wine.  

Magnus doesn’t want Alec to be embarrassed. He loathes the idea of a situation where he feels goaded, or ganged up on; even if it is with gentle teasing. He’s sure Alec’s had enough of that in his life, and it’s at least part of the reason he’d closed himself off to so many people when growing up, forming that stern mask he’d been hiding behind when Magnus had first seen him. Magnus loves that he’s one of the few people who gets to see past that, and the only one he knows sees Alec truly with all his walls down, but still. He snags Alec’s fingers as they slip away from his thigh and squeezes them in reassurance, smiling when Alec squeezes back.

They finish dinner, all protesting that they’re far too full to eat another thing, though another bottle of wine gets ordered, and they sit together in easy company with even easier conversation, in no hurry to be going anywhere. Magnus hears about other sides to the Institute he’s long had such disdain for: funny stories about one corner of the old church that no one likes to patrol in for the belief that it’s haunted; the entire computer system glitching leaving the 3D model of the city stuck flashing neon; and the way Raj had squealed—actually squealed, and gripped on to the nearest passing Shadowhunters in fear, when they’d experience a city-wide powerout during a storm, and the backup generators had taken a long few seconds to kick in.  

And it’s _nice_ , Magnus thinks, relaxing though also holding his breath at the same time. There’s been only the barest moments of difficulties, nothing feels like too much effort, and Maryse genuinely seems to be having a good time. Alec looks as though he’s taking the entire thing in his stride like he knew everything would be okay, and Magnus wants to share that confidence, but doesn’t quite have enough trust in himself for that.  

“I could… go for ice cream,” Alec announces a little later still, bringing Magnus’ attention back from where it had been wandering, “we’re not far from that place we like,”

“I could also _go for ice cream_ ,” Maryse echoes, a hand on her stomach as though that’s helping her decide.

It’s odd, Magnus thinks, though also not at all odd, the thought that Alec’s suggesting a place he and Magnus go to on their own, often at the close of date nights, that he wants to share it with his mother. It’s also another demonstration of just how easily these things slot together for Alec; he loves his family, he loves Magnus, he loves the life he leads with Magnus as well as the one he’s always known—for him, they’re not two separate entities, just part of the same existence that he’s apparently thriving in for the happy smile on his face.

Magnus nods in agreement and calls for the bill, waving away any offers of contribution, and watching Alec’s courteous display with his mom; pulling the chair back for her to stand, draping his spare jacket around her shoulders before turning to Magnus and effortlessly helping him into his with a discreet thumb swirled over its lapel against his chest—slinging his own over his arm in the habit he has sometimes after eating a big meal, of waiting until he’s outside to see if it’s cold enough.

Magnus gestures with an arm for them to head out, and sure enough, Alec’s grimacing and tucking himself into his jacket the second they’re outside, then reaching out for Magnus’ hand, pointing with his other so Maryse knows the direction they’re going in. And that too is effortless, Magnus thinks, a little lightheaded for the thought of walking through the city streets with these two Lightwoods that hold his very life in the balance in some ways; Alec because he loves him so deeply, and Maryse, for showing her approval of that love.

“Here, try this one,” Alec insists to him once they’re in the ice cream house and each have a bowl of different scoops of ice cream. He holds out a spoon in front of Magnus’ mouth like he expects him to just eat it with Maryse right there beside him, and Magnus has no idea how to respond.  

“Is it the mango one?" Maryse asks, her mouth a little full. “Magnus, try it, it’s amazing,”

Magnus delicately takes the offered ice cream and receives a private wink in reward.

“It’s good,”

“Couple months ago?” Alec says, nodding towards Magnus before turning to Maryse with a smile. “Magnus got sick. Sore throat, awful cough, fever. Could barely move,”

“That sounds horrible,” Maryse replies, turning to Magnus herself and seeming genuinely concerned for him. He tries hard not to squirm.

“It was,” Alec agrees, “and nothing was helping; went through all the tea, honey, and everything in the apartment. Came down here as a last resort; apparently, the lemon sorbet and vanilla are miracle workers. I came back with a few scoopfuls; Magnus sent me back to get an entire tub,”

Magnus freezes up, wondering what Maryse will have to say about him sending her son on such errands.  

Maryse observes Alec coolly with her spoon paused halfway to her mouth.

“I hope you brought two tubs. And why didn’t you say anything?” she adds, her voice full of reproach for Alec before turning to Magnus in what looks like apology. “Magnus, please; if you are ever in need of honey, Robert and I… we have good friends who happen to own a honey farm not too far from Alicante. The best honey I have ever tasted. Alec and Izzy used to feast themselves on their turron,”

“I’ll… keep that in mind,” Magnus answers, half in a daze. Alec catches his eye and grins at him wickedly, schooling it in before Maryse sees, concentrating harder on his own ice cream so she doesn’t catch him out.

* * *

“Thank you, Magnus—both of you; this has been a wonderful evening,”

Maryse’s smile for him is genuine, and the way she’s squeezing over his arm as they stand in the apartment is nothing but affectionate.  

“It has,” he agrees, lifting his free hand to cover Maryse’s with his own and watching her smile curve up a little brighter.

“I am… honored, that you would allow me to spend this time with you,” she adds, and Magnus wonders if it would be too much to ask her to stop for tea as well.

“Mom, c’mon,” Alec says with a dismissive wave like it’s nothing. Only, it isn’t _nothing_. Not to Magnus, and certainly not to Maryse, who’s looking between the two of them, bright eyed and so hopeful, that Magnus is desperate to hear what she’s thinking. Though fearing what she might have to say out loud.  

“I mean it,” she insists, squeezing Magnus’ arm again before sliding her hand away, then lifting it to briefly cup Alec’s cheek, “I am… sorry, that I did not let myself see just how… happy you are together. How much you complement each other, and how—I am sorry that I did not tell you how happy I am for you both before now,”

“Mom, it’s okay,” Alec laughs, reaching out and nudging against her arm—though Magnus can’t help notice the pleased look in his eyes and the way his shoulders take on an even more comfortable posture than he’s had all evening. Maybe he doesn’t know every single expression of Alec’s just yet, Magnus reminds himself; maybe he too has been quietly nervous about this evening but didn’t want to say anything for fear of making _him_ concerned.  

It’s really not possible to love Alec any more than he already does, Magnus thinks to himself, unconsciously beaming a smile at him, but right in that moment, it feels like he might.

“Perhaps I can return the favor some time,” Maryse adds, and if that isn’t a turn up for the books for Magnus. He nods enthusiastically anyway, fueled by the smile on Alec’s face.

“She makes a killer paella,” Alec says with pride, “and I don’t mean killer like Izzy’d cook,”

Magnus holds back a retort about the time Alec managed to make pasta sauce hit every surface of their kitchen, and hides it behind yet another smile.  

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Maryse,” he says, and relief hits her face as well; apparently all three of them have been harboring secret nerves about this evening, Magnus thinks to himself with a barely-contained snort. Perhaps things will be increasingly easy between them going forward from now. He hopes so, anyway.

“I can do that,” Maryse agrees, then turns a little more to Magnus, and in a loud, conspiratorial tone, adds, “I can also prepare a _ton_ of photos of Alec growing up if you want to see them. He was such an adorable child,”

“I’d like that very much,” Magnus announces, laughing for Alec’s whine of complaint.

“Then… we will arrange it,” Maryse smiles, her eyes turning between the two of them in delight.

“Mom…” Alec sighs, but he’s out of fight, pulls her in for another brief hug, and Magnus is sure he mutters a _thank you_ in her ear before he lets her go. And then Maryse is stepping forward to pull Magnus into an awkward hug of his own, gripping him tighter than expected, and he’s hearing a _thank you for loving my son_ _so much_ —as Alec grins at him over her shoulder—before he too is released as well, and Maryse is straightening herself up. Back into that posture of rigidity he’s more used to seeing, but with a huge smile of sheer happiness lighting her face.

Magnus conjures her a portal, and then she’s stepping through, it’s closing behind her, and once more Alec and Magnus are alone in their apartment. Alec reaches for him immediately, wrapping him up in a warm hug and sighing out hard, nuzzling into his neck before pulling back and resting his elbows over his shoulders and smiling, ducking in for a kiss.

“Was that so hard?” he teases, pressing a half-step closer as Magnus grips firm around his waist.

“No,” he agrees, mock-petulant, ruining the effect entirely, probably, for the happy smile he can feel creeping over his face; even as he plays with his ear cuff for something to do.

“I love you, so much,” Alec whispers then, before pressing a kiss to his cheek, and smiling as Magnus draws them together until their chests are bumping.

“As I love you,” Magnus tells him, leaning up for another kiss.

 


End file.
